


Best There Is

by Karashi



Category: Total Drama
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2646806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karashi/pseuds/Karashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Strange life I live but it's what you've decided.<br/>I give it all in your hands, do what you will with me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best There Is

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my 2013 Total Drama Secret Santa. Set in a future where Brick actually goes to fashion school.

Jo didn’t know much about fashion. Her own wardrobe consisted of track suits, sweats, cotton shirts, and other iterations of sportswear. She owned clothes that were simple, practical, straight forward, and often worn to death. Which wasn’t to say she _never_ toyed with the idea of wearing something feminine.

But when presented with the actual selection, she was at a loss on where to even begin. And because Jo didn’t like losing in any way, she decided she would have nothing to do with girly fashion and kept to the old familiar clothing haunts.

And yet, here she was, pushing open the glass doors of the fashion studio and marching into the lobby. Heads turned and eyebrows rose as she stomped past in her grass-stained running shoes and dark track suit. Inquiring minds quickly flickered out of existence when they caught sight of the athletic woman’s death glare and bared teeth.

Satisfied she sent the unwanted attention scurrying, she peered over the counter to inform the receptionist of her presence. A perfectly manicured hand held up a visitor’s pass to Jo while instructions went flying at her in rapid speed, “You’re expected in Workroom B. Down the hall. Take the elevator to the fifth floor. Look for the chartreuse door.”

Rather than admitting she had no idea what exactly chartreuse was, the blonde accepted the pass and headed upstairs. She figured she could just demand the first shmuck she encountered there to direct her to the room. Worst case scenario was she’d have to knock on a dozen doors until she found the right one.

Turns out, she didn’t have to do either because the instant she stepped out of the elevator, the very _reason_ she was here in the first place was ready and waiting for her.

"Jo!" Brick’s greeting came out like a Drill Sergeant’s bark and carried throughout the floor, alerting the other fashion students of the blonde’s arrival. The scene Brick’s classmate found was not ideal in Jo’s opinion, because he had her off her feet, and all but crushing her arms against her sides in a joyous bear hug.

There came a chorus of: “Awww, that’s so cute,” and “Get a room, you two!” and “You get ‘er, Colonel!” And if Jo just didn’t have her face buried against Brick’s massive, muscular chest, she would have snarled out a litany of colorful swears at them. Instead, Brick got them to disperse with a laugh and a surprisingly commanding order that they return to their posts and finish their projects.

Once she was lowered back down and the feeling in her arms returned, she gave Brick a greeting of her own. One that involved her knuckles against his shoulder and eliciting a squeak of pain from him.

"That is for embarrassing me in front of all those people!" Jo fumed indignantly, her face beet red.

"You still pack a punch," Brick winced, rubbing the sore spot and grinning wryly. "I’m glad to see you’re still training as hard as ever."

"Yeah, well, you’re getting soft," she lied. And she was definitely lying because her arms still ached where he hugged her too tightly. Not that Jo would ever admit that out loud.

"Then it’s a good thing you’re here to keep me on my toes," he grinned before he led her to Workroom B.

Once past a bright green door, Jo realized even if Brick hadn’t been waiting for her, she would have known which room was his. Brick’s military background had a very obvious effect on the room, from the bolts of fabric neatly tucked to one side, to the swatches and scraps organized into plastic bins, to the dressmaker dummies standing at attention.

"I apologize for the mess. The contest deadline’s coming up and I didn’t have time to clean up better. None of us in class does, come to think," Brick laughed nervously as he went to retrieve an outfit from one of the dummies.

Jo stared in horror, not at the design because it was too simple for her to find fault with, but at the fact that “It’s pink. Why is it pink? You never told me I’d have to wear something pink!”

"Oh is that all? This is just a mock up. I haven’t worked with this particular type of fabric before and there wasn’t a lot of the color I really wanted to use. Don’t worry, Jo, you’ll be wearing blue for the actual runway. Besides, it doesn’t do anything to flatter your skin tone."

Jo, far too relieved that she wouldn’t have to be seen in such an overly girly color, made no comment about Brick using the phrase “flatter your skin tone.” She relaxed and gave the outfit a better look, “I guess it’s not _that_ bad-looking. But you better not have made it a dress so I would trip up in a skirt.”

" You’ve got great hand-eye-foot coordination. C’mon, Jo, you know I’d never do a thing like that," he sounded hurt at her accusation.

"S-sorry," she mumbled and meant every syllable.

"Apology accepted," he nodded, smiling warmly as he removed the dress from the dummy. "If you could put it on, we can get started with the fitting."

And get started they did. Jo emerged from behind the changing screen a few moments later while Brick patiently waited by his workstation. He looked up from the sketches strewn on the table and raised half of his mono-brow when he saw Jo was still in her running shoes. “The heels don’t fit?”

"I don’t do heels," she snapped, folding her bare arms across her chest.

Wisely, Brick said nothing and proceeded to take out the tools of his future trade. Pins, measure tapes, chalk, pencils soon joined the sketches atop the table and finally he dragged out a full-length mirror. Seeing her reflection, Jo instinctively flexed and grinned at the fruits of her long hours of training. Look at those muscles. Look at the definition of her arms and legs.

But then she spied Brick was on his knees and adjusting the dress. She suddenly felt way in over her head. Who was she kidding? She was too built to traipse down a runway in a fancy gown. She was probably bigger than two regular models combined! She was just going to make a fool of herself and what’s worse, she actually agreed to do it!

No, that was loser-talk, and Jo was no loser! If anyone dared to laugh at her, she would tear their throat out and use their face for a glove. Yeah, that’s what she’d do. And later, much, much later, when she and Brick are getting fitted for their wedding clothes, she’d tell him about what she would have done. And Brick would look her straight in the eye and tell her, _I’d hold them down for you_.

But that wouldn’t be for many years from now. For the time being, Jo decided to come way out of left field and ask Brick, “What’s shar-truce? It sounds like something Lightning would say if he was surrendering.”

"It’s just fancy-talk for green," Brick laughed as he inspected the skirt’s hemline with his usual level of intense focus.

"Oooh, you’re Mister Fancypants now?" she teased.

"That’s _Major_ Fancypants to you,” he said, brimming with pride. “Could you maybe take a step backward as far as you can?”

When she did as request, Brick began to jot down notes. There were several more instructions, more poses, but none of them were particularly embarrassing or risqué. But seeing how this was Brick, the gentleman, Jo shouldn’t have suspected him of such things in the first place. At least she knew not to say this out loud. What was spoken aloud was, “I’m surprised you didn’t ask Zoey or Dawn or Anne Maria instead of me.”

"Why would I do a thing like that?" Brick carefully asked with a mouthful of pins.

"It’s just this is something more up their alley, you know?" she frowned, diverting her gaze away from the mirror, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious.

"No, I do not, Ma’am," he shook his head, looking up at Jo to meet her eyes, confusion evident on his face.

Damn it, where was String Bean when you needed someone to explain things for you? She drew in a breath and quietly told him, “I’m not exactly girly and definitely not model material. I mean, I scared the pants off Sasquatchanakwa and you passed out like a wuss in that model challenge.”

"No pants or any other article of clothing was scared off Sasquatchanakwa. I used industrial strength glue."

She rolled her eyes, “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

Brick meticulously finished pinning the piping into place before standing up. He was still studying the garment when he explained, “It’s true you don’t have the usual model aesthetics. But-” he raised his hand preemptively trying to placate Jo’s anger, “I don’t want nor need the usual model aesthetics. I designed this outfit with _you_ in mind.”

"What’s your point, Captain Fancypants?" she snapped. She wished Brick’s words didn’t make her feel so flattered or heart beat so wildly in her chest. There was no reason for her to go on like this, after all, it’s not like he just admitted that he thought about her a lot.

"My point is: I want to win this challenge. And to do that, I got to have the very best of everything, the best design, the best construction techniques, and of course the best model. I had to get the prettiest girl I knew. So I asked _you_ , Jo. You got no idea how relieved I was when you said yes.”

Instead of wearing the smug confidence of someone acknowledging her superiority, Jo sported the very brightest of blushes and adamantly refused to look at herself in the mirror, lest she see that she now matched her dress. “S-so you needed the best, eh? Y-yeah, I can see why you asked me,” she stammered.

But composure was a long way off because Brick took this moment to look at her face and noticed the distinct shade of her skin. He grinned, “But if you’d rather I get Zoey or Anne Maria as my model-“

"Fat chance!" Jo hotly declared, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up to bring their faces close together. "You’re not cutting and running this time, soldier, that’s an order!" She growled low.

Brick’s arm swung into a salute naturally, and his dark eyes twinkled in laughter. “Yes Ma’am!”

"Good," Jo nodded, letting go of him and turning to face the mirror. She was surprised by what she saw. Jo didn’t know much about fashion but based on the details added and the sections pinned back, it was very obvious he did. She looked, dare she say it, incredible.

"The over-all design is going to be neater than that, but I hope you like the general look of it. It’s supposed to be functional for you too, although I’m not so sure this type of fabric’s breathable but we’ll find out won’t we?" he babbled happily.

"It’ll do," she shrugged, feigning indifference. She had a reputation to maintain after all, especially around Brick. But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her reflection as she turned this way and that, swiveling her hips to get a better look behind her. "I-if you need me to model something like this again, I could probably fit you in my schedule."

Brick lit up like a Christmas tree at her offer.

"Who knows, I might even wear heels for you. With the right outfit I mean," she added hastily.


End file.
